The Windy City by Shelby Flemming

The day had come. My bags were packed, and I was in the car waiting to leave. It was the summer of my eighth grade year and I was off to the windy city, otherwise known as Chicago. Little did I know, I would take a lot more out of these 5 weeks than I had imagined.


Throughout my childhood, I always focused on something, giving it my all until I was burnt-out from it. I was an avid gymnast, figure skater and then dancer. I had only started dance a year before, but my pure devotion to the art helped me catch up quickly. When I had auditioned for Ballet Chicago, I was the only dancer without pointe shoes. I had not been dancing long enough for my muscles to handle all of the weight that would be put on my ankles when standing on my tippy-toes, but my amount of experience did not stop me from giving It my all at this audition.


I was in high spirits the day I checked the mail to find that trusty envelope. I had been accepted! I was put on pointe shoes only weeks before I left for this summer intensive, but I knew my persistence would guide me through, and it did.


My strong focus on various activities such as this had given me a narrow mind. Thinking beyond my next class or performance did not happen often, but this all changed when I left my home that day.


The dorms I stayed in were smack dab in the middle of Chicago, a block away from Michigan Avenue. Other than a resident advisor living on my floor, I was alone in this big city. Dance class was everyday from nine to six, so we did not have much free time. Going from the small, guarded town of Harbor Springs to Chicago was a bit of a wake up call.


Homeless men and women would follow me down the street to class begging me for money. Garbage littered the concrete jungle. Nights were always alive, and not a star could be seen at with all of the light pollution. This was a sight that I had never seen before, and it hit me. The world is not all about me. My world is not all about dance, figure skating, or whatever sport I am involved in at the time. My world is about everything and everyone around me and what I do indirectly effects it all as a whole. That is, if I want it to. Before these five weeks, I was completely dependant on my parents, but I would never be again.


A week was the longest time I had ever been away from my family. I had not had to make new friends since second grade. I had also never had to devote myself and almost all of my time to one thing this way, dancing almost everyday of the week all day long. This entire experience made me realize how insignificant these things were to me. I did not want to spend 9 hours a day working my butt off. If I would have kept it up, I would not be able to walk by the age of thirty. I simply was not devoted enough to keep up with dance.


The city made me realize more about myself than anything before. My possibilities felt endless, and being stuck in that studio all day killed me. I wanted to get out. I wanted to experience the sights, sounds and smells, no matter how polluted the air was. I wanted to see different people, to hear their stories, and most of all, I wanted more. I realized that the world is all around me. The world is at my fingertips. That is, if I want it to be. There are so many other sights and sounds to experience, so many other cultures to see.


Since these five weeks, I realized more than the fact that dance was not for me. I was humbled and inspired. I was ecstatic and homesick. I was ready to look forward to things other than myself, things bigger than a dance performance or skating competition. I was ready for the world, and I knew it was ready for me.